


Chompers, Boss, and The Internet Addict

by Shatterflowerdemon



Series: Reader inserts [10]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bastard energy, Collars, Edgy motherfuckers, Honestly this may come off as crack fic, Horrorfell, I promise I'm taking this fic somewhat seriously, Implied Cannibalism, Magical Bullshit, Mention of famine, Monsterkind already has your soul type, Not super angsty, Other, Pseudo science probably, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Reader has scars, Reader likes the internet, Sans is called chompers, Soulmate AU, You're in the underground, anticipate animal death and stuff being mentioned, be prepared to, but its not inherently kinky I swear, by you, encounters, fight for your life, for some reason, fuck it, future violence, gonna try to do some fluff, hhh tagging is kinda spoilers but fuck it, idk if that's a thing, mention of child death, mention of human eating, mood, no beta we die like warriors, no lipsyncing, pre-slash i guess, sans has a collar, sorry met, tame horrortale? I guess, the boys want to keep you, whoopie, will change rating if needed, yeah theres some resource issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterflowerdemon/pseuds/Shatterflowerdemon
Summary: You needed a name for the skeleton, for the sake of your mind. Skeletor didn't sit right, and Halloween decoration was too long. You wouldn't dream of attaching Jack Skellington to your captor.Maybe something to do with those sharp teeth? Chompers. Y'know, like your grandpa's falsies or your aunt's kidnapping pit-pull with a bigass hole in its skull. Yeah, that checks out.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/ Reader/ Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus/Reader, Probably gonna be slash - Relationship, Sans (Undertale)/ Reader/ Papyrus (Undertale), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Reader inserts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042395
Comments: 52
Kudos: 146





	1. Bitey Motherfucker

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, ANOTHER Sans and pap/ reader fic. I have no self-control.
> 
> As always! My socials:
> 
> Shatterflowerdemon on Tumblr (I take requests and give out fic recs!)

You sense the monster following you before you see them. Your hand flies out to strike the figure as they leap on you. It hurts your hand a lot, and you've probably sprained it. The attacker sprawls you on your back, and their body cages yours in. 'If you're feeling froggy, then jump' was something said to you before, and now you were finding the irony.

You strike at the assailant, but they suppress you physically. Teeth press against your neck, and you tense, waiting for the final bite. To your utter shock, the monster does not bite you. Your chest buzzes, and you feel a bit less in danger but still unsafe. A deep chuckle reverberates from the figure to you. 

Who stuck a battery in your chest?

He(?) lifts you, straightens you, and picks you up. You're confused, and a large part of you is anxious. You thrash around and try to escape his grip. It gets firmer in response. 

"...not gonna... hurt ya."

That noise came from the monster holding you captive. You can practically see how your face scrunches in utter confusion. This monster may not wish you harm, but none of the Underground's monsters seemed too sane. 

The Underground does not pass the vibe check and does not collect 200. 

You force your body to relax to lull the skeleton into thinking you had submitted. Like hell, you would give up this early on. Bring it on Halloween decoration. Said skeleton carted you through a decrepit looking town. A sad tree sat in the middle of it as if waiting for a Xmas that wouldn't come. It was odd how a place under a mountain could drop in temperature so fast between the Ruins and Snowdin. Well, no one had ever accused you of being a geologist, but you were pretty sure caves didn't snow. Then again, caverns typically didn't have kidnapping skeletons either. 

You needed a name for the skeleton, for the sake of your mind. Skeletor didn't sit right, and Halloween decoration was too long. You wouldn't dream of attaching Jack Skellington to your captor. 

Maybe something to do with those sharp teeth? Chompers. Y'know, like your grandpa's falsies or your aunt's kidnapping pit-pull with a bigass hole in its skull. Yeah, that checks out. 

Chompers jostled you a tad as he froze dead in his steps. His hand pressed on the back of your head. This movement forced your head towards the fur of the hood of his jacket. What the fuck had made him freeze up? You didn't bother asking. If it's anything dangerous, then it'd have done something already. Chompers starts walking briskly (As briskly as a large skeleton monster could in snow.) 

The ride seems to be over when you bump against Chompers as he (let's go with that) climbs a set of porch steps. You can see two rusted mailboxes and a dented garbage bin with nothing in it. The front door sounds like it's opened. You're brought inside and dumped on the floor unceremoniously. 

"BROTHER, HAVE YOU RETURNED?" a shrill but dominating voice comes from further within the house. It's a very put-together house when you consider it's surroundings. You stand up and press your back against the scratched up door. Chompers looks at you as if he's trying to see beneath your skin. For all you knew, he was. His eyelights travel from your chest to the area where you heard the voice from earlier. You can hear what sounds suspiciously like pots clanging on a stove. "BROTHER, I WILL NOT ASK YOU AGAIN," the voice says. 

"Here, Boss," Chompers replies. 

Chompers' brother huffs and keeps (from your assuming) cooking. Big hands clamp on your tense shoulders. Chompers pushes you forward. You can either risk injuring yourself or comply. The choice is an easy one. He lets go of you when you're seated at a beat-up table. It's black, like a lot of the items you can see in the house. There's a butter knife wedged in the table, down to the hilt. 

You decide to keep its existence in mind and remind yourself of the objects on your person; phone, gum, multi-tool, ribbon, and bandages. You lost your water bottle in the earlier struggle, you realize. Luckily, Snowdin has snow. 

You could work with that. 

Chompers shuffles to the kitchen you can see from your seat. A tall, imposing skeleton is stirring a pot at a surprisingly nice looking stove. Your short captor seems to be telling the tall one something. It must be about you since they keep looking over to you as they chat. 

Well fuck, you're fucked, you know it. Your emotions may deem this situation alright, but your head knew to be wary. 

Boss, as Chompers called him, swiftly dishes three plates. He strides over to the table and sets the food down with efficient grace. The smell is impeccable, and your stomach agrees with a hearty growl. Your body cannot decide if it should flush or blanche from the expressions cast your way. A sad-looking fork clatters next to the plate in front of you. The skeleton brothers scrutinize you as they sit down. Boss is directly in front of you, his brother beside him. The three of you awkwardly look at each other. 

"eat," commands Chompers. Boss leans across the table and watches with eerie focus. 

Would this kill you? Did you care? Maybe. You cautiously twirl the spaghetti around the sad fork and take a bite. Holy fuck, if this is what death tastes like, you would accept it with open arms. It's delicious! Your apparent delight must have pleased your sort of captors. Sort of, since the tall one didn't capture you. Boss nods silently and proudly eats his food. Chompers doesn't start eating until his brother is halfway done. You finish eating last and idly wonder how fast it'll take you to die. 

Was it smart to eat something you killed via poison, though? Would poison even affect the skeletons? Can skeletons eat? Did chompers seriously fucking kidnap you so his brother could feed you godly spaghetti?

You nervously looked between the two brothers. Their sockets were boring into yours. What were they waiting for?

"HUMAN, DID YOU TASTE MY CULINARY FINESSE?" asks Boss. His voice startles you so much that you slam your knees into the table. 

" uh, yeah, to be frank, that dish was fucking good," you tell him earnestly. It's true, the spaghetti was divine. Might as well give your final compliment where it's due. Boss 'hurumps' and starts stacking the dishes. You almost want to help. Call it an old habit. Chompers watches you shamelessly. 

You're seriously starting to worry about your sanity. Was this just some fancy escapism?

Boss strides over to the table after depositing the plates in an absurdly tall kitchen sink. Chompers slumps in his chair, and you get the impression he wants to sleep. Probably from the droopy eyesockets. 

"HUMAN, WASH THE DISHES, THEN WE WLILL SPEAK BUSINESS," says Boss. You look at him incredulously. 

"How am I supposed to reach the sink?" you ask. 

Boss looks from you to the sink. His palm slides down his forehead. You watch him march away while muttering about 'short beings with no sense of utility.' Chompers is out like a light when you look at him. He probably doesn't sleep like the dead. If you're to make a move, it's not now. Fucker probably had freaky reflexes. No, not yet.

Boss returns with a step-ladder. It's a little rusted but will do the job. He hefts it over to rest in front of the sink. His eyelights bore into your back as you climb it. You take every chance you get to look at the window as you wash dishes. It looked easy enough to open or break. There wouldn't be enough time to break it gently. You'd have to roll through it and hoped the shutters opened. 

"Don't think about it, buddy. Windows are boarded up." 

Shit, Chompers is sitting on the kitchen counter behind you. You see his reflection through the window. He must have seen you looking at the window, damn it. The dishes are washed all too soon. Boss is sitting at the kitchen table, posture perfect. You avoid looking at his overbite. Chompers guides you once again to sit down. He doesn't let your shoulders go. 

"sit, and stay," commands Chompers. Boss is once again staring at you intently. 

"HUMAN, AS YOU MAY KNOW, MONSTERKIND NEEDS SEVEN SOULS TO BREAK THE BARRIER. UNFORTUNATELY, A FEW HAVE GONE MISSING. FORTUNATELY FOR YOU, WE ALREADY HAVE YOUR SOUL COLOR. THE ISSUE LIES IN THE FACT THAT MONSTERS WILL EAT YOU IF THEY GET THE CHANCE. YOUR BODY IS MUCH MORE PHYSICAL THAN OURS," Boss speaks clearly, albeit with some audible discomfort. 

You can feel Chompers staring at you from beside you. The soul part wasn't that surprising, although you wondered if they were telling the entire truth. Your hand rose to rest over your sternum. 

Was Boss telling the truth? Something made you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You politely nod to indicate you were paying attention. A dense but gentle hand lands on your shoulder. Chomper's phalanges curl into his palm. You eye his other hand and take note of how sharp his distal phalanges are. They could easily slice through fabric, butter, or skin. You suppress a shiver. 

"wanna...keep ya..." mutters Chompers. You eye the two skeletons warily. 

"Why?" You ask. 

"WORRY NOT ABOUT OUR REASONS. JUST KNOW THAT WE WILL NOT MAIM YOU. HOWEVER, THERE WILL BE STIPULATIONS TO OUR PROTECTION." 

Grand. This is where you get your ass kicked, metaphorically or not. A sigh heaves from your throat, and you mindlessly pop your knuckles. 

"Name your price," you mutter as you tuck your folded fingers under your chin. Boss grins menacingly. A strong urge to follow this through thrums inside you. 'Let's rumble, boney daddy,' you mutter sarcastically to no one. Best to keep your quips in your head, for now. 

"SIMPLE. FIRST OFF, YOU WILL BE DELEGATED RESPONSIBILITIES TO BE FULFILLED IN A TIMELY MANNER. SECONDLY, DO NOT LEAVE THIS HOUSE UNTIL YOU ARE CLEARED TO DO SO. UNLESS YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH, OF COURSE. THIRDLY, YOU WILL BE GIVEN SPECIAL GEAR TO WEAR IF YOU SURVIVE LONG ENOUGH. FOURTHLY, YOU WILL SHARE YOUR INFORMATION WITH US," Boss lists each stipulation while holding up a finger for each one he adds. That was pretty loose, even for you. Information, special gear, and responsibilities not clearly specified? This definitely could spell disaster. At least they didn't seem to want to trap you entirely like Toriel. 

"Sure, fuck it, I don't have much to lose. Besides, if I decline, I wouldn't make it that far. You've clearly planned this out," you reason. Boss looks at you thoughtfully. Chompers plops down next to you and dumps the contents of a mustard packet into his maw. 

"nice to know yer.....head ain't empty....pal" rumbles Chompers. His clawed fingers tap next to the bust in his skull. You laugh as soon as it processes. 

"God damn, you got me there, bitey," you quip. You haven't had anything remotely to laugh about in a while. Your 'laugh box' makes the most of the opportunity. Eventually, you calm down and swipe gathered liquid from your eyes. 

You swipe up the sleeve of your right arm to display the uneven skin there. The hand attached to the arm extends itself to Chompers.

"I know we had a bumpy start but ah, truce?" 

Chompers looks at your hand like he's not sure if it's real or not. His gaze slides over the patchwork of scarred skin on your arm before he seems to compose himself. A hefty palm envelops yours. Chompers shakes your hand like it's going to crack and fall off. 

"Truce," he says. 

Boss rolls his eyes at the two of you and strides to the front door. You don't miss the way he had looked twice at your arm. Yeah, that's fair. Those cracks and funky teeth of his hadn't gone unnoticed. Not that his external appearance was any of your business. 

"I AM LEAVING, DO NOT GET INTO MISCHIEF AND REMEMBER THE STIPULATIONS," he commands before he leaves. You aren't sure who he was directing the order towards.

Chompers grins at you, his gold tooth glinting. "Ya know how ta skin a rabbit?" You don't get the chance to answer before he whisks you off to the backyard and gives you a demonstration. Your lack of disgust seems to please him. Hmm. 

Boss returns maybe an hour later? While he was gone, Chompers (sans as he had finally given you his actual name) had set you up with a blanket and pillow to use for sleep later on. He commented that artificial nightfall took place, something about circle rhythm. You couldn't hear him since he started to mumble about wings before staring into space. You nod your head along and pretend to be somewhat interested. 

Frankly, you didn't give a shit as long as you had a roof over your head, food, and some blasted ass sleep. God damn, when did you last sleep? Toriel's house? Even then, it was like watered down coke compared to the shit you were getting before you fell into hell. 

Lovecraft must be rolling over. Good. 

Chompers idly asks you why you even came to The Underground. Your answer is a dry 'because I fell in,' but he takes no offense. At least he had a sense of humor. You could work with that. Maybe life with the bone boys wouldn't be absolute fucking trash.


	2. Magical Bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magical Bullshit and Swanky Necklaces!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Loves! Thanks for reading so far. Super down to continue this story. I've made some concept art and I'm really loving my version of the horrorfell bros! They're babey. I will fight over this fact. First post of the new year. I dread the future haha! I swear this fandom is like,,,one of the few things keeping me going. So, Thank you guys.

You take it back. This was going to be a dumpster fire. 

Okay, maybe not precisely flaming garbage but, still. 

Chompers, and you kicked back until Boss returned from wherever the hell he had disappeared off to earlier. He returned to see you and Chompers sitting on their living room couch. 

You ignored the slash in the wall above the TV that looked like it had seen better days. 

Yeesh. 

Sans, Chompers, whatever, had managed to fall asleep sitting up straight. Great, not like that was utterly cursed. Bags crinkled harshly as Boss strode over to stand in front of the TV and coffee table. The contents of the bag ended up on the said coffee table, bagless. You mentally stuttered at the shit you were looking at. What the fuck kind of kinky shit did you waltz into and how the fuck were you expected to react to this? Boss crossed his gloved arms and seemed to be waiting impatiently for your reaction. Chompers blearily looked around, roused by some unseen force.

"Uh, clarification please?" you ask as you stare in front of you. Boss dejectedly sighs as if you just told him his bastard dog escaped the kennel again. 

"THIS IS YOUR SPECIAL GEAR, WHICH YOU PREVIOUSLY AGREED TO WEAR. IT'S COMPLETELY NECESSARY. WEAR IT OR GET KICKED OUT. I WILL NOT HAVE YOU UNDERMINING MY AUTHORITY," Boss states, final. You grumble as you thumb at the collar he procured. It's the kind that can have a leash attached and even has one of those strap things for adjustments. Must be a cultural thing then, you decide. That makes you feel better. You were glad to know you hadn't agreed to some weird full-time kink shit with two literal skeletons. That'd be batshit. What a Tumblr post. A therapist would have a field day with you, 'I have to wear a collar and probably a leash or else this tall edgy skeleton will kick me out to be literally chewed up. At least I would make shitty leftovers.' 

You're not anti-kink by any means, but this was sudden, and you didn't have anything established with these skeletons. Frankly, collars were hot as shit. You just wished you had gotten one differently. Fuck it, sure, why not. 

You purse your lips and look from Boss to Chompers. 

"uh, can I get some help putting this on?" you jack your thumb towards the collar as you speak.

Chompers' fingers twitch, but Boss is the one that snags the collar from your grasp. He's efficient, and in less than a minute, it's on you securely. Your fingers press between the gap between collar and throat. The perfect amount of room. The inside of the collar isn't as uncomfortable as you suspected, but it would take some getting used to.   
Boss strides over to a rack on the wall you didn't previously notice. He hangs up the leash he had brought 'home' to match your new statement piece. It hangs next to a red leash. You eye Boss' neck, and then a suspicion climbs your spine. Chompers seemed to be onto your thought train as he takes the exact moment you look at him as his opportunity to flash you his own swanky necklace. You get a good look before Chompers tucks it under his sweater again. You idly wonder if your hoodie would conceal your collar.

"AHEM," Boss fake coughs, "NOW, I HAVE PATROL, AND SANS HAS HIS WORK TO DO. YOU, HUMAN, WILL REMAIN IN THIS HOUSE WHEN WE'RE OUT FOR NOW. YOU'RE FRESHLY COLLARED, AND AS SUCH YOU'RE STILL AT RISK." You nod as he talks. He must be apart of the guard, then. You had barely evaded some of them previously. 

"EVENTUALLY, IT WILL BE SAFE FOR YOU TO LEAVE WHILE ACCOMPANIED. UNTIL THEN, STAY HERE. I WILL BE FURIOUS IF I HAVE TO BRAWL BECAUSE OF YOUR FOOLISHNESS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Boss asks. 

"So, you're saying that for some reason or another, I can't leave this house for a while?" Boss rolls his eyelights and folds his arms. 

"YES, EXACTLY. I CANNOT DIVE INTO THE EXACT SCIENCE OF COLLARS, BUT ESSENTIALLY IT NEEDS TIME TO MATURE THE BOND." 

What? Magic bullshit, then? The word bond can imply some funky shit. You shoot Boss a confused look in hopes he'll explain further. Instead, Chompers opens his mouth. 

" 's like....a signal to everyone....who's responsible fer ya...needs a few days to set.....'s gotta grow n settle....like a.....plant" he explains. You still don't fully get it, but okay. 

"So magical bullshit? And this bond won't like, brainwash me or anything, right?" you look between both of the brothers hesitantly. You hope you'll like the answer. 

What you don't expect is for Boss' terrible expression to morph into bemusement. "THAT'S ABSURD," he says, without malice or aggression. It's almost like he found what you said funny. 

Chompers guffaws. "Nah....magic.... don't work like that.....bond's like.....being able to...talk without words.....if 's not mature....can be broken....then yer free meat.....gotta hide ya...in the meattime...heh"

You patiently wait for him to finish. Boss screeches at his brother for the pun, which you ignore. Alright, so basically, you're a sitting duck until this shit dries like a kindergartener's finger painting. Cool. Lovely.

"Right, okay. Let's hope no one drops by for a house visit, then" you snark. Boss waves you off with a scoff. You internally grin. "I wouldn't want any beef with whoever visits. Something tells me they'd try to bust my chops," you pun. Chompers looks at you as if you just handed him a ticket to Disney World. As much as that fucker could emote, anyway. 

"UGH, MY POOR SKULL. CEASE AND DESIST, IMMEADIETLY WITH YOUR LOW BROW HUMOR. BOTH OF YOU," Boss specifies as if he's had this conversation before, and it left a loophole. You could see the shorter skeleton taking advantage of one. Boss doesn't sound too angry, but you still decide to cool it until he's no longer in earshot. Skullshot? Whatever. 

Chompers scratches his hand bone absentmindedly. You ignore the weird sound. Not quite bone, but not rubber. You suddenly wish you had a phone charger on you. Not that you could call anyone or anything, the cell service was probably shit. At least you would have your downloaded content and pictures, though. It'd be nice to finish that one show you were watching before- right, Chompers. And Boss.

Boss has somehow managed to make his torn outfit neater than before. He swings the front door open with ease. As Boss starts to exit, his sockets bore into you and his brother. 'No funny business' is what that look screamed. Little did he know you were hilarious. The door slams shut.

".....Hey, bitey, you got a phone charger 'round here by chance?" you ask Chompers. His eyelights flick up to you. He mumbles something too low for you to hear. "Sorry, but can you speak up? Didn't catch that."

"Might have one.....dunno if it'll.....fit," he says. You idly finger the collar around your throat and take a moment to ponder. Okay, goals, right, those are a thing. Phone charger, something to drink, and a bath if possible. Toriel did not exactly make you feel secure enough to let down your defenses like that. Secluded space where you're naked? Yeah, fuckin right. She'd probably have picked the door and tried to wash you. Eugh. 

Sans eventually gets up from the couch beside you. He shambles over to a drawer and digs around in it. You once again ponder the odd noise his bones make as they move against surfaces, magic, man. You snort as a meme you had seen recently swims through your brain. Man, you missed the internet. 

He stops his search and holds up a phone cord. It looked like it had seen better days. the box of it looks slightly different than what you're used to seeing. 

"I'll try it out, thank you. Also, can I get a shower or something? I smell like fucking death." Chompers chuckles, and you catch the joke you had just made. "I swear that was intentional," you say, unconvincingly. 

He says nothing but walks upstairs. You aren't sure if you're supposed to follow him until he stops and waves you forwards. The steps creak. He quirks an eyebrow at you as if to say 'ya dunce.' You let it roll off your back. Chompers stops outside of what you presume is the bathroom door. It looks a sight better than the front door. His skeletal hands nudge you inside. When you turn to look at him, he's gone. Woah. You didn't hear him walk away. He must be light since he's all bones. Heh. 

Your hand finds the lightswitch on the wall. The blub flickers before growing steady with its light. You're not sure why skeletons have a bathroom, but then remember that bones can still get dirty. A Monster that shits must have built or refurbished this place. Unless it was just a building feature for monsterkind? 

You shake the thought and decide to focus on getting clean. Maybe you could bother Sans for a pair of shorts or something? You poke your head out of the door. Sans isn't anywhere you can see him. You're not sure if searching for him would make him mad. Probably not, now that you really think about it. If they didn't want you wandering around, they wouldn't have left you to your own devices.

Yeah, okay, where the fuck's Sans. Mission START. You snort at your thoughts and search the house.


	3. Mustard Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally shower! What's this shit Sans is talking about? Plus, an encounter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovelies! I've been planning this fic lately and I'm stuck between two end choices. Due to this, I think I'll be writing either an alternate ending or a separate fic with a similar premise.

You find sans drinking out of a chipped mug. It has a skull and crossbones. The entire scene screams edgy, and it's wonderful. Until you catch the strong scent of the drink, it smelled like alcohol and mustard. A yellow bloody mary knockoff. 

"ya done?" he asks when he sees you. You pause your movements. 

"Nah, just wanted to know if I could borrow a shirt or something? my clothes are pretty foul after all the shit that's happened lately."

Sans grimaces and stands up. "....forgotta bout it...."

You would apologize for the inconvenience, but this is the fucker that had kidnapped you. Besides, if the brothers were going to keep you (odd phrasing, but whatever) then, they better get used to providing clothes that don't smell like sweat and blood. Knowing your luck or unluckiness, they'd be into that shit. You shut down that line of thinking. No thinking about housemates? Roommates? Kidnappers? Sexually. They're fucking skeletons, anyway. Though, that didn't stop Jack Skellington...Ah, nope, think about.... anything else. Shower. Clothes. Cool. 

Sans leads you back upstairs. He disappears into a room you assume is his based on the caution tape and faded rock posters on the door. The smell of weed of days past wafts by when he enters. The door shuts behind him. 

You take this time to cool your shit and think over your situation. It would be smart to find out why the fuck the brothers are trying to ensure your survival in their own way. It may not be TLC, but it was better than anything you'd expect in this hellhole.   
Your hand raises to your collar. It's pleasantly warm, which is weird when you consider the material. Even the outside of it is warm. The longer your hand stays, the more your nerves start to tingle. The buzzing matches the intensity of limbs affected by nerve damage or an asleep foot after standing. It's the same sensation, or rather, lack thereof. 

Sans steps back out of his pot scented room. His arms hold dark materials, and he pushes them into your grasp. 

"some of my old clothes.....should fit.....will hide your scent...from the dogs..." 

You smile gratefully. The couple Sans was referencing was a thorn in your side earlier. Luckily, after they had caught your scent, you were whisked away. Bluntly sure, but it did the job, which reminds you.

"Thanks for the clothes. Y'know, I still don't get why you guys are doing this, but I appreciate it a lot. This shit has honestly been so crazy for me so, this is nice. Thank you," you say sincerely. 

Sans averts his eyelights and rubs his neck. You get the impression that you have flustered him as dull red sweat(?) beads on his skull. 

"uh, don'...mention it....we'll talk when yer done.....bathin'.." He says. You nod and ignore the pleased feelings swirling in your gut. The two of you walk in opposite directions. 

Thank fuck for underground plumbing. Haha. 

Seriously, though, that shower felt fantastic on your sore body. The skeletons only had weirdly named products, but they seemed decent enough. You completely bypassed the bone cologne. The scent threw you off in a way you couldn't pin. Rad bone bleach promised skin irritation.

Sans' hand-me-downs were comfortable. The turtle neck fitted a little snug in some areas, but it was pleasantly cozy. His shorts were similar to those you were wearing when you fell, but with yellow stripes on the side and frayed edges.   
A jacket was also included, with odd stains on the furred hood. Best not to think about that too much. At least it would keep the dogs off your back. Impulsively, you lifted a sleeve to your nose. You smelled hints of pot, stale air, dust, and something that just screamed sans. It vaguely reminded you of the drink you had smelled earlier. Damn, you could go for some water right now. You had made yourself puke up the food Toriel gave you (read: force-fed.) 

You cleaned up after yourself and left the bathroom. Sans was in the kitchen. He took a heated plate of spaghetti leftovers out of the microwave and put it on the table. You awkwardly waited for him to say something. He didn't. Instead, he pointed to the kitchen table. message received, you sat down. Chompers took a seat across from you and slid the plate your way. In a flicker of rust, there was a cup of water and a deformed fork in front of you. 

"eat....I'll.....explain...." he starts. You silently start eating and decide not to think about the contents of your meal. Chompers has the air of a weary war vet as he rubs his hands over each other. You'd be anxious too if your people (including yourself) were trapped underground with dwindling resources. 

"the....queen...is not kind...she used to be tha....captain of the royal guard....before Boss....a kid came through......and killed tha king....he wassa bastard....sure.....but then.....tha kid.....left....didn't come back....tha's when tha resources....started waning...." 

Wow, you hadn't known all of that. Shit, a kid killed their king? You idly wonder how they got that far without being murked. 

"We jus'....needed...one last soul....but when Undyne....became queen....they were all missing." he heaves a long sigh and averts his eyelights,

"monsters started....huntin'....humans.....for sport or the barrier.....didn't matter.......we haven't been.....a kind......group.....fer....a good while....kings kid died.....broke apart the royal....family....Asgore....was never tha same."

Woof, kid death never did bode well for families. It was semi comforting and sad to know that monsters hadn't always been cruel. Tough situations did that to people, though. You either harden or soften from that kind of bullshit. It didn't take a genius to know what happened to the monsters. At least Boss' spaghetti was there to comfort you at this moment. You idly wondered when Sans was going to start talking about why they were sheltering you. 

"but....as fer why we want'cha here.....'s kinda....simple...but complicated..." he trails off 

"How so?" you ask between chews. You watch as Chompers' focus snaps back to the present. He laughs but it sounds melancholy. Like someone who barely had anything to live for. 

"yer.....perseverance.....not....determination.....you can't reset.....like the kid.....but..only you fell out of....order.....ther's somethin....about'cha soul......'s not normal.....no offense.....plus.....I think....Boss is getting sick.......of murderin......."

"What? Do you mean that purple heart thing? Out of order? This isn't really making any sense, Sans." You use his real name, no longer joking along or taking things semi-seriously. You're dead serious, now.

"I like how ya say my name," Sans says. It's the clearest you've ever heard him speak. No pauses or breaks, not even a mutter at the end of the sentence. His eyelights are fuzzy like someone screwed your vision out of focus as you looked at them. 

Silence hangs between the two of you. You cough and look away. When you look back at Sans, he's no longer staring at you and his eyelights are sharp again. Like red coins, but the left one is beady and the right one is bigger with a hole in it. Could be because of the crack spiderwebbing down his skull. That's probably why the left one is so small. and piercing. 

"Didn't want....ta tell ya.......until we knew we....could keep ya. But that doesn't really matter now. I dunno bout boss....but I'm.....already startin' ta get.....attached to ya. Doesn't hurt that'cha look so cute in ma clothes." 

His comment catches you off guard. Why is his speech so smooth when he's flirting?! You don't know how to take it. Chompers must think your expression is funny because he's fucking chortling. 

"cute.....good pick....anyways....you and me? we got somethin special.....is in ma soul....and Boss' too......dunno how tha works for...humans....but....monsters.....we ARE our soul......we can feel.....connections....very easily.....yer like the lamp to ma moth."

"The lamp to your moth?" you snort. Original, you'd give him that. he grins. 

"yer...laughin'....so...'s workin'...." Sans looks so damn proud of himself. You decide to let him have his victory. Y'know out of goodwill. 

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, what's your point about souls? Granted, I didn't even know they for sure existed before falling. And no, it wasn't from heaven," you deadpan. Your jab doesn't deter Sans in the slightest from what you can tell.

"My point is, angel, yer soul's gonna be real good buddies wit ours, hell, mine tries singin' every time I'm near ya."

You hmm and drink some of your water.

"So basically some Tumblr soulmate AU shit? Oh my fucking hell, does this make me the main character? Assuming what you're saying is true. Which you haven't given me anything to assume it isn't," you say. 

"We could....start an....encounter....you could....check me.....'s the...only way...human can do it..." he suggsets. Well, it's not the worst idea, you reason. 

"Sure, fuck it, I doubt you'll kill me. Would stain the table," You joke. It seems in good taste, though. Sans chuckles.

"Wouldn't.....kill ya.....if ya....made me" he says, and then you feel the creeping feeling of an encounter. It's a lot more pleasant than the one you had with Toriel. Vignette creeps in the corners of your vision. Sans smiles goodnaturedly. It doesn't creep you out as much as it probably should. You get the first turn. Options file through your brain. You CHECKSans. 

Sans, The Protector

ATK 7 DEF 3

*Your soulmate, hopes he doesn't have to watch you die

"Oh, wow," you say. What a fucking flavor text. It's Sans' turn, next. The cool feeling of a CHECK runs down your spine. 

Y/N, Perseverance

ATK 2 DEF 7

*Wondering what a soulmate is, and why they don't want to escape.

You spare Sans and the encounter ends. You get no G or EXP. Colors bleed back into your vision. You watch as this stout, sharp-toothed, and capable skeleton scratches the back of his neck. He's acting shy as if he had just gotten flirted with for the first time. 

"So uh, that flavor text huh?" you chuckle nervously. You aren't sure exactly why you're nervous. maybe because soulmate has implications. Maybe because of how honest the CHECKS were.

"yeah.....sit down, angel...."

When had you stood? No matter, you sit. This was probably going to take some time to talk through. Sans sits down across from you. Your eyes can't seem to find his eyelights. 

"imma....be real...honest witcha....sweetheart," he says. How ominous, you mentally quip. "thers.....a lot of monsters.....that are.....gonna want'cha....as free exp.....I don' want...tha ta happen...to ya." Yeah, that lines up with the CHECK.

"So, a whole bunch of monsters are going to try to kill me?"

".....yeah....probably....but....we'll be with ya....every step...of tha way"

"Thanks, sans. Fuck my life. No offense, you're great."

He just grins. But it doesn't sit right on his face. The gravity of the situation presses between you both. 

"None taken.....wanna.....smoke some weed?" he asks. You laugh.

"Fuck yeah, dude."


	4. The Good Kush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weed and a Flustured Skele (tm.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! Decided to make my own reverse harem (kinda) fic, which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28579920/chapters/70043133. 
> 
> My Tumblr: Shatterflowerdemon
> 
> I take requests and post when I update my fics!

Smoking weed was very cathartic. 

Sans explained that it didn't affect him the same way it did more 'fleshy' beings. He had said some extremely sciencey stuff about it, but you were too high to grasp it. 

Simply put, that shit was just what you needed. 

I mean, you end up re-discovering a species, brush with danger a few times, and meet your soulmates. Puff puff passing is an appropriate response. 

For your sake, you think, Sans had checked traps outside before even lighting a blunt. Which, fair, considering the neighbors. That earned you a snicker. From you? Yourself! 

The two of you watched some batshit show about an ax-wielding calculator. Perfect for the occasion. You end up passing out on the couch. Honestly, you were already running on low before meeting the skelebros. 

Sans let you sleep. He couldn't bear to disturb you. The Underground sure did take its's toll on you already, huh? His eyelights honed in on your sternum, namely, what laid beneath it. 

Your soul.

Rationally, he knew human souls didn't have just one property. That'd be stupid to think. Past DT experiments proved otherwise. Regardless, your soul was still very purple. It was almost like reading your history when he looked at its shape and texture. 

At this moment, he was very thankful to be the judge. It served for more than just killing monsters that caused trouble, now. He could keep an eye on you more so than any other monster could. Sans double-checked your stats again before relaxing. 

Your HP was full. 

Admittedly, he was curious about why you had an LV higher than one. He wasn't in much of a position to ask. He'd be a hypocrite for asking a question he didn't want to answer. Maybe if you two managed to leave The Underground, you could swap stories. 

He'd like that. 

Sans makes sure you're safe as you continue to rest. Until Boss comes home. 

"I HAVE RETURNED. I SEE YOU'RE BOTH ALIVE. THE DOGS ARE AWARE THERE IS A HUMAN ON THE LOOSE. I, OF COURSE, TOLD THEM NOTHING. SANS, CHECK THE BOND. I'LL BE MAKING DINNER TONIGHT."

If the door slamming didn't wake you up, then that proclamation sure did. 'Dinner' translated to the mangled corpse he was hauling to the kitchen. At least it didn't smell. Much. You politely declined to comment on the menu. There was a food shortage, after all. At least it seemed fresh. 

Chompers' hand slowly moves to rest on your collar. You watch as he focuses on something intangible. Then, suddenly, the warm weight of his hand leaves. You blink. That was quick.

"bond......growing...right on schedule....'s fine..." he says. He seems reverent, somehow. His gaze is soft as his hand returns to the collar. His fingers on its surface spark more of those tingly feelings. It spreads up your neck and curls around the back of your hand. 

The sensation makes it's way down to your toes when a newspaper is shoved between you and sans.

"NO CANOODLING. YOU'LL RUIN THE COUCH. GO BE USEFUL."

You whip your head to look at Boss. His hands are propped on his hip, one grasping the newspaper. You ignore the mysterious stains on the apron he now dons. Chompers makes a choked noise, and when you turn, he's gone. 

"Uhm, do you want any help with something? I don't really know what you expect of me." You say while ignoring your embarrassment.   
'Canoodling,' yeah, okay. Boss huffs. 

"CLEAN UP, DO LAUNDRY, ORGANIZE OUR TOWELS BY COLORS. I DONT REALLY CARE. JUST DONT GO OUTSIDE, FOR YOUR SAKE," he says.

You know what you do when someone says something like that? You smile to throw them off. 

"You got it, Boss! Just lemme know if there's anything specific. I gotta earn my keep, right?' you reply, a tad more cheerfully than before. He probably wasn't used to kindness. Time for a test.

"Y-YES, WELL. YOU CAN START WITH DOWNSTAIRS. I WILL TAKE CARE OF THE KITCHEN."

You sigh in relief. Hey, did you fluster him? That's cute. He must really not be used to positivity. Handy, you idly think. Boss returns to the kitchen, presumably to finish his butchery. You let your gaze wander the living room. It wasn't a pigsty but tidying up couldn't hurt. 

You spend the next good while cleaning. Boss seemed like the type to enjoy a clean house. That's probably why it was still decent in the house. You didn't peg Chompers as the type to arrange towels by color, with all the towels facing the same direction. 

Frankly, what mystified you the most was the sheer amount of mustard you found scattered across the house. So. Many. Bottles. The final count came to 18. Who the fuck? Chompers, the fuck. There was no other possibility you would entertain. 

Boss yelled that dinner was done after you had finished cleaning the bathroom, living room, and entrance to the house. All that remained was the brother's rooms. You didn't feel like exploring the basement. Weird vibes came from it, and it was locked. For good reason, you assume. 

"HUMAN, FORCE SANS OUT OF HIS ROOM BEFORE I DO. ONE IS MORE LIKELY TO END IN VIOLENCE, AND I WILL NOT HESITATE." Boss practically screams from the kitchen. Tough break. For who? You aren't sure. 

Sans doesn't respond to your first knock. You knock again and again. 

"Bitey? You in there? Boss is done cooking and is probably gonna cook your goose if you don't come down for dinner." Nothing. Not even a chuckle. 

"Dude, I'm gettin' kinda worried, you good?" you knock again. Is he alright? Did you miss him leaving the room or house? There's no way, right? Desperation claws at your insides. Did something happen to him? Can monsters die from stupid shit like humans, and that's why he's silent? Fuck, you were actually starting to- 

The door opens. Sans' room is dark. His figure seems to loom over you, even if he isn't actually that tall. 

"sorry angel....les go...." he says. You nod, dazed, and move out of the doorway. Sans shuffles towards the stairs. The door doesn't shut behind him, and impulsively, you look in. It's may be dark, but you could see the outlines of a mattress and various other objects. Papers litter a damaged desk. Hmm, whatever, wasn't your business. You walk downstairs. 

Dinner is stiff. The food was delicious, to your pleasure. It's a dish you don't know the name of. You sure aren't complaining, though! 

"so uh...how was work?" You ask, knowing exactly how forced it sounded. Boss tersely nods. 

"WELL ENOUGH. HOW WAS YOUR BLAND DAY, HUMAN?" 

"eh, not so bad. had a good 'ol encounter with bitey, fun stuff," you say offhandedly. You continue your blissful meal. Damn what a dish! It was indescribable. 

"AN....ENCOUNTER. FOR A CHECK, I PRESUME?" Boss asks. You don't pick up on the tonal change at first. His voice is strained.

"Yep, neat stuff. Really loving the-" you don't get to finish, as Boss turns to rage at sans. 

"SANS, YOU INSUFFERABLY MONSTER. WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT GIVING OUT VITAL INFORMATION! YOU IMBECILE, LETTING THIS HUMAN KNOW THAT- THAT WE'RE- THEY-" He shouts, unable to formulate his thoughts. 

You feel mildly offended. Not enough to do argue on behalf of your pride, but enough to argue on behalf of the principle.

"What you didn't want me to know something relevant to me? That's kinda shitty, dude. My soul and all that, without it there wouldn't really be a soulmate pair or whatever right?" 

Chompers is nervously looking from you to Boss. It's almost like you just poked a sleeping bear. Or a boney ass fighting dog. 

"HUMAN....." Boss hisses. You absentmindedly register what you have at your disposal. Can't wedge the butter knife from the table quick enough. You'd have to dash for it. 

"Yeah, soulmate?" you ask. Because if you're going to get burned you're sure as hell going to poke at the fire. Last laugh, motherfucker. 

A deep, almost purply red blooms across Boss' cheekbones. You eye it in awe. Did that actually do something productive?!

"I'LL BE REITIRNG NOW, FAREWELL!"

Boss jumps over the fucking table and runs up the stairs. Two steps at a time. You look over to Chompers to confirm that what happened was real. The two of you look at each other silently before bursting into laughter.

"H-holy shit, did he just f-fucking launch himself over the table? What the fuck?" you bang your fist on the table as you wheeze.

"stars... angel....you really...got under his skin..."

You snort and burst into laughter again.

"I rattled his bones! What a tsundere!" 

Sans fucking loses it. 

"Ya a weeb.....fuckin hell....." he laughs in the stretches between his words.

Life is good, then.


	5. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chatting and breakfast-ing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, loves! Sorry for the delay. My inspiration likes to shift all over the place but I'm still willing to finish this story. I already have a rough outline and the plot should be picking up soon!
> 
> [My Tumblr!](https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/)

Sleep that night was interesting, to say the least. Both Chompers and Boss woke up at least once and swept the house. If it wasn't for your light sleep, you wouldn't have noticed at all. At one point, you fell asleep with your legs out from under the blanket. The next time you woke up, it was covering you fully.

Boss wakes up early. His booted walk is what wakes you up for the final time. 

"Good morning, Boss," you greet him after rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Instead of a brush, you comb your hair out with your fingers. 

"GOOD MORNING," it sounds robotic. Boss must not be used to it. That's gonna change. The idea of the skeletons not making 'useless' chatter makes you feel a bit pained. What else did they not have that you took for granted? You stretch and follow Boss into the kitchen. This counted as helping out, right? He eyes you strangely as he drifts about the kitchen. It's almost like he finds your existence surreal. 

"Sooooo, Boss. You jump hurdles or something? 'cause you sure had hops last night." 

You jump a little when he sets a pan down too hard. His skull is flaming as he shoots you a glare. It isn't that effective. Tsundere fucker. You can't find it in yourself to be anything but pleased at his reaction. 

"IT IS NOT A CRITICAL PART OF MY TRAINING REGIMEN." he replies. You hum and take the kettle he was holding from his grasp. 

"Where do you keep your tea?" you ask. Boss points to the cabinet in front of you. Convenient. You start to prepare the tea. It's a golden flower type, you think. The font is a bit hard to read as if water had bled the ink. Boss slides various ingredients into a pan. You don't comment on his choice of meat. Nope. You do not want to know what or who it is. Things are better off this way. 

"SAND AND I HAVE BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO TODAY. IT CANNOT BE AVOIDED. I WILL ORGANIZE INSTRUCTIONS FOR YOU BEFORE I LEAVE. NATURALLY, YOU ARE TO STAY INSIDE," Boss shoots you a firm look that gives you no arguing room. As if you'd argue with the dude keeping you alive right now. You lift your hands, palms showing in a display of appeasement. 

"You got it, Boss. I'd prefer to keep my head attached to my body for today. As a treat."

"A TREAT?" 

You sigh wistfully and pat his shoulder in a slow movement just so he isn't caught off guard. "Oh, my sweet summer child, you have no idea." Damn, you miss social media a bit now. He sends a scathingly confused look.

"I AM NONE OF THOSE THINGS, I THINK. WHAT IS SUMMER?"

"Oh boy, I'm definitely giving you and Chompers a rundown on the surface when you get back," you decide. Boss makes a weird sound you cannot place, but his gaze stays focused on his meal. You choose to get something to drink. Boss takes this moment to stare at the breakfast in progress as if It would tell him the secrets of the universe or who killed his father. This made you picture the meat saying, 'no, I am your father.' 

Thinking of what it potentially was made of sobered you up. Yikes. 

"WAKE SANS UP BEFORE I THROTTLE HIM. EVEN AMIDST ALL OF THE UNDERGROUNDS FAILINGS HE NEVER CEASES TO RETAIN HIS IMPUDENCE."

"gotcha, one sec," you say before trodding off towards the bottom of the stairs. You inhale deeply. 

"RISE AND SHINE, CHOMPERS! MIGHT WANNA GET DOWN BEFORE BOSS KICKS YOUR ASS!"

Boss cackles from the kitchen, and you put your hands on your hips proudly. That ought to work. It's not like you could squeeze his calf for him to wake up. That was your secret wake-the-fuck-up technique. Boss' laughter made something in you feel lighter as if you weren't in some Lovecraft adjacent hell. At least there was good food. 

Chompers slumps down the stairs soon after. You smile at him innocently and set the table, evading the wedged butter knife as you do so.

"wheres the...fuckin fire?" Chompers asked. You chuckle. 

"Dunno, but I wouldn't be alarmed," you attempt to pun. The joke seems to go over Chompers' head. He hums under his breath and passes out at the table. You snicker. 

"Does he do that often?" you ask Boss when he walks in carrying breakfast. 

"UNFORTUNATELY," he says and sets down the bowl of food, "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" 

Smack!

Boss swatted the back of Chompers' skull. It wasn't hard, but you wince minutely. That didn't look entirely pleasant. Chompers (without lifting his head) punches his brother in the ribcage. It doesn't seem to jar Boss at all, who makes a gruff noise and sits down. He seems irritated. 

This seemed like a habit for the two. It felt awfully close to something domestic. The buzzing from when you met Chompers returns to your chest. Idly, you rest your hand over your chest. Boss looks at you keenly. Chompers lifts his skull enough to make eye contact with you. 

"What?" you ask them, nervous with this sudden and intense attention. It felt like you were in a public speaking class and giving a presentation. 

"THAT CONFIRMS IT IF I HADN'T ALREADY KNOWN," Boss comments. His hand twitches around a fork. 

"....yep....real pretty song ya got there, angel."

You shoot Chompers your best prying look. "What are you talking bout?" 

"YOUR SOUL. IT'S RESONATING WITH OURS. IM SURE YOUR SURFACE EDUCATION IS NOT AS PROFOUND AS OURS, SO I WILL EXPLAIN," Boss jabs. You ignore it since he knows jack shit about the surface and is likely saving face. 

"RESONATING IS BEST DESCRIBED AS WHEN YOUR SOUL IS PLEASED WITH THE SOULS OF THE COMPANY YOU KEEP. RESONATION ITSELF IS WHERE YOUR SOUL VIBRATES AND PRODUCES A UNIQUE 'SONG,' AND YOURS IS ESPECIALLY PLEASING FOR SOMEONE SO....SHORT."

Chompers snorts. "'s nice....prolly since you're our soulmate n all...I like it..." 

Wow, what a cultural difference. "Low blow, Boss. Too bad you're stuck with me now." You look down at your chest as if it'd provide you an explanation or lunch money. Why not both?

"So, how come I can't hear your souls resonating?" you ask.

"I SUPPOSE YOUR HUMAN NATURE MAY HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. MAYBE, WITH PRACTICE, YOU CAN. SANS AND I MUST TRAIN YOU REGARDLESS, AND BY THAT I MEAN ME WHILE SANS EXISTS NEARBY."

Chompers finally sits up and starts to eat. You once notice it's while Boss is halfway finished with his meal. Hmm. "Perfect plan, Boss," he snarks. 

Boss rolls his eyelights and continues eating. You ponder for a moment longer. Could you one day hear what the fuck they're talking about? The thought of being able to hear their souls resonating makes something buzz in you that probably isn't your soul. 

The future didn't seem as bleak as it once did when you stepped into the cold snow.


	6. Shank it, twist it, roll it, push it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot? In my story? Weird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late but I've been working on some background info for these boys and my other pet projects!
> 
> Not very thoroughly edited and I have no beta.

"WELL, THIS HAS BEEN...SOMETHING, BUT WE REALLY MUST BE OFF SOON FOR WORK," Boss says. You pick up on the fact that he said 'work' bitterly. 

Boss isn't so bad, you think. bad situations are what put them in this position (all the monsters, really.) You weren't stupid. You knew what the two skeletons get up to if the various axes you had seen around the house weren't evidencing enough. Who knew what had stained the bottom of Boss' reflective boots. Speaking of Boss, did he ever take his full-length sleeves off? 

Boss stands and gently grasps the collar around your neck. You notice his left hand feels like it's causing more of a buzz, but the sensation is gone when he removes his hands. "THE BOND IS COMING ALONG QUICKER THAN EXPECTED. STILL, SANS WILL BE CHECKING IN ON YOU," He shoots a firm glance at Chompers who grunts and downs his weird yellow drink. Not a morning pers- err, monster, huh? 

"HUMAN, FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL AROUND THE HOUSE. I DO NOT THINK THERE IS ANYTHING THAT COULD HARM YOU WITHIN THESE WALLS, MINUS THE TRAPS ON ALL ENTRANCES AND EXITS THAT WE WILL BE SETTING BEFORE OUR DEPARTURE. DO NOT LEAVE."

You give Boss a thumbs up and your best smile. "Sure thing, also, can I borrow some clothes or something?" Chompers raises an eyebrow bone at you. "N-not that these aren't comfortable! It's just that my other ones are kinda fucked up." Thanks, Toriel, you grumble mentally, albeit half-heartedly. You're pretty sure those stains would never come out, and the burned parts weren't worth mending. Boss hums loudly, contemplating before marching off upstairs without another word. You look at the shorter brother, but he shrugs. 

When you're drying the dishes, a slightly scratchy fabric lands on you. It blocks your sight, so you scramble to get it off. When you pull it back, you can see that it's a cloak. It was simple, burgundy with a hood and one button at the top to keep the thing together. You look up at Boss, who stares at you expectantly with a hand on his skinny jean-clad hipbone. 

"WELL?" He asks. You slip the cloak on, swishing it around your legs like a child would with their first scarf. When you look at your reflection on the surface of the stove, you smile. Even if you can't see the entire thing, it feels comfortable and warm. It's like someone once loved this cloak a lot. You look up at Boss, sudden affection welling up inside you. 

"Thank you," you tell him with unbridled awe and other emotions you cant name. Boss averts his eyelights, skull flushing a pretty purple-red. Mulberry? Chompers whistles from the table, you note that he's wearing a jacket (similar to the one he gave you) and his beat-up sneakers. 

"moving.....fast...Boss.....took guts..."

Boss squawks at his brother, stomping his foot and balling his fists at his sides. "TERRIBLE PUNMANSHIP. GET BETTER MATERIAL. DO NOT TARNISH MY PERFECT COURTING WITH YOUR TOMFOOLERY!"

You blink. Courting. Holy shit you're in a hottpad story right now. What the fuck. "Courting?" 

Boss looks at you with furrowed brows before loudly smacking himself in the forehead. You wince and hope the blow wasn't as harsh as it looked. Maybe it was just the way bones sound? He speedwalks upstairs and returns holding a tenderly cared for book. No scratches or dents to be seen. He lays it on the counter. "STUDY THIS. ALSO, KEEP A WEAPON NEAR YOU IN THE UNLIKELY EVENT YOU ARE ATTACKED. IF THE ATTACKER ATTEMPTS TO TOUCH THE COLLAR, LET THEM."

"Let them? Why?" 

Boss grins manically, and it brings out the sharpness of his features. His fingertips touch in that typically villainy way. "OH, NO REASON! I'M SURE YOU WON'T NEED TO WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD ABOUT IT."

Those words get to you in several ways. "Pretty?" you ask, feeling a parrot by now. You need a better routine. The tall skeleton in front of you locks up, and you can tell Boss is forcing himself when he looks you in the eye. 

"YES."

The day runs quicker after that. Boss ignores the flirtatious moment and smooths his hand over your head before leaving. You appreciate the touch. Toriel wanted affection, you could tell, but you were not so comfortable with it, so you hadn't touched anyone in at least two days other than the skeletons. It should have felt more awkward than it did. Granted the affection was a bit...weird, but it was more like the newness of it than anything bad with the touches. In short, it was pleasant, and you could warm up to it more. Chompers runs his distals across your collar before following his brother. 

"Seeya..angel."

You wish you could watch them leave, but the door had been shut, and Boss did say they'd trap the doors. You'd prefer to keep your innards that way, inside your body. As the first order of business, you fold the cloak up and put it on the coffee table. It looks like the living room was your hangout spot now. Next, you find the book Boss had given you. The dating manual. You consider reading it but put it off for later. First, you'd explore a little around the house. The expedition is pretty useless if you didn't consider the many weapons stashed around the house. You even find a fucking prison-style shank. Heeding Boss' earlier words, you place it next to the cloak and book. You clean the eating table and finish putting up the dishes. With these things done, you turn to the manual.


	7. Where's a Glock when you need it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light reading, boredom, and references made at inappropriate times.

'The Dating Manual'

You open the cover and see that the introduction page is smudged, Whatever. When you flip it, the table of contents is next. You see something about courting and turn to its listed page number. It's a lot of text, so you jump around the page, reading what stands out. 

'Courting can be a vital part of securing a bondmate. Dating is becoming popular, and the two are vastly similar. However, courting is the formal process of stating your intentions and showing interest, rather than asking a monster on a date and following typical dating protocols. 

Dating protocols are typically still in use during this time. Courting is more commonly used by traditional monsters. A survey found soulmates use the courting process more than non-soulmated monsters.'

Oh, okay. So, courting is like a fancy extra step, but it isn't exactly like 'normal' dating? What did the cloak have to do with this? Whenever this was written courting was more popular than dating. Just how old is this book? It's easy for you to comprehend, even if the font looks weird. You tuck away those questions for Boss later. Hopefully, this book would explain more.

You skim some more and pass over some long historical anecdotes. Just the vital bits for now, please. 

'Steps:

1\. A monster discovers its interest in another.

2\. The first courting intention. Traditionally a crafted or well-loved item. Typically nothing extravagant in case of rejection.

3\. Upon acceptance by the courted, the courter will display how they are capable. 'Showing off' phase. This can be in tandem with other steps (see: 2 and 4)

4\. Gifts that start off small and increase in meaning. Layered intent. 

5\. The instigator will present the courted with an object with their scent and strong intent layered in it. The courted acceptance makes the two 'official.' Any separate courters will have separate presentations but should be cordial. Verbal (or its substitute) is the most likely avenue. 

6\. Gift giving continues, now involving the courted (and potentially other partners.) Scent marking.

7\. Escalation of the relationship as is natural. Soulbonding, moving in, and children if wanted.

Rejections can happen at any phase and is a firm reaction with a strong 'denial' intent. Verbal rejection is likely to be in tandem.

Note; These steps do not have to occur in this order and are at the discretion of the participants. This is just a guide of traditional courting practices.'

That... was a lot of information. 

Boss handing you the cloak earlier burns into your brain. Well, it seems like you're living your best Hottpad life, but with hopefully decent grammar. Boss seems like he's the traditional sort of skeleton. It's endearing. 

Considering these past events, you wonder if Chompers would follow in his brother's footsteps. You didn't have much to go off of in terms of soulmates. Did Chompers even see you that way, or is it more of a platonic bond? You can't help but feel hopeful. He has been flirty with you already. Something tells you that your soul would continue to resonate in the presence of the two skeletons regardless. Too bad you can't hear it. What did it sound like?

What you do know is that the skeletons make you feel all sorts of warm things. 

Satisfied with your new knowledge, you place the book on the TV stand. Mulling around your options, you walk to the kitchen to get a cup of water. While waiting on the glass to fill (thank fuck for fridges,) you ponder. Well, you could fold and re-fold towels until you die, nap, look for books, watch murder robot TV, or nap. It's an easy choice. 

You dig around the house for more books and find one on some sciencey bullshit you can't understand. The rest of any potential books must be in one of the guys' rooms. You don't even consider thinking of invading their spaces. With one less option, you cut on the TV. It's less fun to watch when you're sober. 

Thankfully, this episode is just some weird cooking show. Contestants are dropping every so often from what you assume is poison or really nasty food. You don't think it's staged, but it doesn't bother you much. They aren't dusting, just getting visibly uncomfortable.

After the first fleshy monster turns a fluorescent color and starts to heave, you change the channel. Of course, it's a sadistic game show this time. You consider watching but decide that maybe a nap would be better. The well-loved cloak calls out to you. Instead of grabbing a blanket from the linen closet, you wrap the red cloak atop you and get settled. You move the shank under the pillow, making sure it's facing the inside of the couch. This way, it won't stab you or the couch pillow. 

Relaxing in the silence, but still missing the skeletons, your mind fuzzes out into sleep.

When you awaken, you're not sure what has caused you to do so. You're alert and sitting up within the blink of an eye. Something doesn't feel right. 

It's still silent. 

Until it's not. 

There's a scrape. It's long and grating, like someone with long nails ran them down a rough surface. Like the wooden outside of this house. Shit. You gulp and fumble to grab the shank. What the fuck is making that noise? 

Your hand reaches upwards to grab the collar. It pulses in your hand comfortingly. It's like a pseudo-hug, warming your insides and making you feel strong. Whatever it is, you're not going to let it petrify you. Skeletons are waiting for you. 

You evaluate your options. It seems safest to put your back in a corner. This way, they can't attack from behind you, and you can see the front door. There is no backdoor, thankfully. You hear the scrape again, but it sounds closer. You wrap the cloak around you. It offers you a bit of comfort, like a gentle hand pat. A decision needs to be made, quickly. The collar pulses in your hand again when you touch it. Fantastically motivating stuff, even if you already didn't want to be eaten by an unnamed source. You are not even seasoned! 

Should you take a chance and run for it? Where would you even go, assuming you got past the traps? Shit. Another scrape and a gurgle. That's someone's digestive system, you realize. There's a monster close that has a stomach of some sort. You realize what they meant by you being a fleshier being now. You're easy meat that doesn't turn to dust when skewered. The next scrape is even louder than the last. 

Then you realize it; the noise is from above. The monster has flight abilities. When you press your ear against the wall, you can feel a vibration. It feels like wingbeats. 

Okay, you know from Chompers carrying you that there are woods nearby. If the monster manages to get past the traps (which it likely has based on it being on the fucking roof,) you can enter it. If the monster has wings, then it's likely to be at a disadvantage in the forest. You, however, have a spicy (probably) shock collar, shank, and two bipedal legs. Suck that chicken shit!

With rising dread, you realize the monster has grown silent. Fuck, that can't be- Your thought it cut off by a loud screech. Numbly, you realize: it's a war cry. Then there's the sound of something snapping. It must be the monster tearing the roof apart. The shutters are boarded up, and there isn't a backdoor. Your one hope is the front.

You make a mad dash for the front door. 

When you yank the door open, you're faced with red glowing lines crisscrossed over the door entrance. Hesitantly, you poke one. Your hand tingles, but phases right through it. The process isn't hurtful. You could almost sob from relief. The monster sounds like it's utterly decimating the roof now. It's destroying the fruit of carpentry, but you could give less of a shit as you kick rocks. You don't take the time to observe much around you. The forest! You have to get to the forest!

The monster screeches again, but you're solely focusing on your goal. There's no time to look back, only forward. You will get through this. You aren't perseverance for fucking nothing. Chicken shit can eat dirt and fuck off.

You should find one of the skeletons before an opportunist feasts on your bones. This situation puts that one Kesha song into a whole other light. Stayin' Alive can be the song of the day if you make it out of this shit.


End file.
